Friday, March 1, 2013

Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VI: Changing Fortunes


“Dead?”

He asked it again incredulously. His subordinate nodded sheepishly and swallowed hard. For Dr. Bearden, this wasn’t just one more failure in a string of upsets. Losing the Borodin data was serious, failing to recapture it on the Maglev was grave, but now getting one of Vitushkin’s precious five killed... Add to that the riot in the gulag and the end of his stream of test subjects, well, it was only a matter of time before Katerina gave him the chiding of a lifetime.


Dr. Bearden wasn’t afraid. After all, he was indispensable. But it was all becoming very annoying. His subordinate stood at perfect military attention, as Dr. Bearden drew a small flask from his desk drawer. He had a sip of brandy. Bearden realised there was nothing for it; he would have to call on Kinross. Again.

“Very well, lieutenant, who’s in command now?” Dr. Bearden asked the pale junior officer.

“We… We don’t know, sir. They seem to have broken contact.” The lieutenant had saved the worse for last. Bearden took another swig to wash down the bile rising in his throat.

“Very well. Start preparation for moving the package to the Beta site,” the older scientist said, putting his flask away and missing the shock on his underling’s face. It was clear the lieutenant thought it was too early, and he was right, but it was time for Bearden to start planning for the worse.

---

“Dead?” he croaked with genuine surprise and some amusement. The two gruff-looking men standing in front of his table looked at each other with grim satisfaction.

“That’s right, pilgrim, you’re a dead man,” the shorter but broader one said. His taller confederate nodded.

“Your friend told me you’d be able to tell me what I wanted to know. He swore, he begged, he was like a ballerina twirling on stage.” Gordon, still seated, closed his eyes and played it again in his mind, which brought a smile to his face.

“You’re nuts, fella. Ain’t no one look for Kinross, he looks for you.” The taller man warily eyed the seated man with the scarred face and neck. The two thugs looked at each other and shrugged before stepping towards their prey. The throaty subject of their aggressive intentions responded by flinging two white objects onto the table in their direction.

The thugs, thinking there might be some money to be made, paused and looked down. Then the seated man spoke again through his damaged throat. “That’s what your friend said before he told me where to find you two.” Gordon stood with alarming speed, catching his two would-be assailants by surprise. “And you’ll put on quite a show for me, too. But before the curtain falls on morning, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

On the table lay two polished white canines.



Heavy Gear Roleplaying Game

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